


The Family Business

by Nixx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fluffy Ending, Sexy Times, angsty teenager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixx/pseuds/Nixx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine the son you share with the infamous Dean Winchester decides to follow in his father's footsteps.<br/>This is my first!ever fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Family Business

"I said no and I damn well mean it!"

"But dad…" He was interrupted once again

"I don’t want to hear it and as long as you live under my roof you’ll do as you’re told" the stern voice reprimanded.

"Do I make myself clear?" A feeble response was heard through the oak door.

"Yes sir" and with that sixteen year old Harley stormed out of the living room failing to take notice of you, and up the stairs to his room. He slammed his bedroom door for good measure. You cringed at the sound and the aforementioned ‘sir’. You knew that Dean hated being referred to as a drill sergeant as it reminded him too much of John.

You cautiously enter the living room, cradling your young daughter in one arm. Dean failed to realise you had entered the room. You gently rub his arm alerting him of your presence. He sighed turned to you and strokes your daughters freckled cheeks. His features were sharp as ever, the colour of his irises the same green as when you met him all those years ago. The only tell-tale sign of his now fast approaching forty-three years was a small smattering of grey hairs which he vehemently denies are blonde ‘only the lighting is off’.

"(Y/n) what are we going to do?" He looked exasperated.

This was the second time your son was sent home from school this month, one more incident and the principal will have no choice but to suspend him. Your son was not a delinquent however Harley Winchester was definitely his father’s son. The same stubborn streak is the cause for his current erratic behaviour. Harley has recently decided that he wishes to leave school and pursue a career in the ‘family business.’ The pranks and the bad attitude are direct response to his father’s refusal to allow his young son to accompany him on his hunts. This led to many arguments over the past few months ending in a similar fashion to the one witnessed minutes ago. Harley would sulk in his room and Dean would fume under the hood of the Impala.

”I don’t know but a Winchester screaming match isn’t helping.” You said softly wrapping your free arm around his waist. He grimaced, “We woke Marcie didn’t we?” The little blonde giggled at the mention of her name and wriggled towards her father. Dean beckoned to his little girl and she immediately struggled to move from your arms into her fathers. “Daddy’s little pea-sized princess” lay her head on his chest thumb in her mouth ready to drift off again. You pulled her thumb and she grumbled in protest but did not place her hand back in her mouth rather curled her hands into Dean’s shirt. He smirked

"If only it was that easy to convince Harley, hey (y/n)." You smiled knowing that he was trying to make light of a very serious situation. Gently you guide the daddy-daughter duo to the large sofa. Dean takes a seat Marcie snoring softly on his chest and you curl up close to your husband, your head on his shoulder.

"You know it was completely the opposite when I was growing up, Sammy wanted to go to school and he couldn’t… Dad didn’t want him to, said: he had to choose family or school; one or the other." Dean didn’t talk much about John after he died but on rare occasions he would open up about his father. You gently inquire,

"Sam decided to go to Stanford and then you’re dad went missing right?"

"Yeah, and I pulled Sam out to go look for Dad. He didn’t want to leave but he did it anyway. For the most part I think it was for me, you know? And I feel guilty that I deprived from the best thing he ever had."

"But Sam turned out okay, hell he turned out great." You softly remind him and this was true. Sam had not retired from hunting entirely often choosing to join Dean on particularly difficult cases but more often than not he was busy juggling a career teaching at high school and raising the twins with his wife, Nel.

"But you don’t want to do that to Harley right? To make him feel like he missed out?" Dean shook his head.

"I don’t wanna lose my son. I’ve seen my fair share of bad times and I am know exactly what kind of toll this job has and I’m determined to keep my boy away from that for as long as possible." Dean tenses as he speaks the last few words. You remember vividly exactly what kind of danger hunting brings. You dread every time Dean walks out the door for a case; only to finding solace in his promises to be safe and your two beautiful children.

”It’s gonna be okay, he will come around and besides I am an expert at convincing you Winchesters!” As you stand up, Dean chuckles and smacks your backside. You let out a gasp,

"Mr. Winchester, well I never" you let out an impish laugh. Dean begins to laugh as well; the rich baritone fills the living room. You smile as you exit the room, phone in hand. The text sent is short but hopefully sufficient. ‘God I hope he can help’ you pray silently.

The second floor is quiet except for the dull thumping of music emitting from your son’s room. You knock on the door hard and fast, and then call out softly

"Harley darling it’s me. Can you open the door?" A grumble is heard from inside which sounds a lot like a no.

"Please? For your mum" you attempt again. This time you hear shuffling and the door swings open.

“Yes?” He replies tersely. You ignore the tone choosing to enter the room instead. You take a seat on his bed, and gesture for him to do the same. He chooses to stay standing lean up against the door; arms crossed a look of concentration no different from his fathers etched on his face. You pick up the soft blue quilt Nel knitted for Harley’s first winter and stroke it. Harley observes you for a second and joins you on the bed, head on your lap. You gently run your fingers through his short hair,

“You know… Your dad isn’t the bad guy”

"I know mum, I know"

Half an hour passes and Dean finally relents and places Marcie in her crib to find out where his wife went. He stopped short of Harley’s door listening to the conversation inside.

"I love him, mum" there is a momentary pause before he hastily adds "oh you too mum, I love you too." (Y/n) laughs softly and answers

"I know that but maybe you should let your dad know too." Dean steps away just as the door opens; his wife sat comfortably on their son’s bed, cell phone in hand staring at the screen with a smile.

Harley steps forward stretching his arms out, only he is not sixteen years old but the terrified three year old Dean picked up after his first day in school. Dean doesn’t hesitate to wrap his large arms around the lanky teenage boy allowing him to bury his head so only a muffled “I’m sorry” could be heard. Harley looked up at Dean

"I’ll go back to school; I promise there will be no more trouble." Dean ecstatic upon hearing the news gently patted his son and exited the room as a grin broke out on his face.

"(Y/n) how did you do it?" Dean exclaimed once you were in your bedroom. You grinned from ear to ear.

"Now that would be telling Mr. Winchester." You winked.

"I love you Mrs. Winchester" he placed a firm kiss on your lips.

“I think it is time to show you how thankful I am” a wolfish smile spread across his face as he pushed you back onto your mattress. He showered you with kisses starting with your nose, forehead and cheeks, finally making way to your puckered lips. His lips tease yours apart, teeth gently grazing your jutted bottom lip whilst your tongues entwined. Your hands graze over his shoulders down his back until you reached the bottom of his shirt. A firm tug got rid a single barrier and you wrapped your legs around his hips securing his position above you.

“(Y/N)” a breathless whisper emerged from Dean’s lips causing you to smile up at him. His hands were tangled in your hair so you decided to help him out by shimmying out of your top. A sly smirk graced Dean’s features so you leaned back and let him take control… whilst you and Dean were in the throes of passion you made a mental note to cook Sam’s favourite dish for Sunday family dinner as a thank you. Turns out Harley, much like Dean could never refuse Sam!


End file.
